


I Only Want to Move When You Move

by carpemermaid



Series: Things You Said... [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fantasizing, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Locker Room, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Post-War, Quidditch, Rebuilding Hogwarts, Shower Sex, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11267829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: Draco was on the verge of a monumental panic. Potter couldn’t know. He could never find out how he felt. It was one thing to be on vaguely…civil terms with him, but it was another matter completely to be pining after him when he was never going to go for Draco. Not after what they’d both been through. Not after everything.After the battle, the trials, and everything that happens immediately after the war, hope comes and the dawn of a new era. Volunteers flock to Hogwarts to rebuild and repair during the summer months. New friendships forge, forgiveness is given, and Harry Potter overhears something he was definitelynotmeant to in the Quidditch showers.





	I Only Want to Move When You Move

**Author's Note:**

> For a tumblr prompt game: _things you said i wasn't meant to hear._
> 
> I've cleaned this up a little from the tumblr post, but it still remains unbeta'd at the moment, so if you see something amiss drop me a line at mtheginger@gmail.com! The title and chapter title come from the song Fade Into You.
> 
> Ok, so I've been on a huuuuge 8th year kick lately, thanks to [the collab](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11198334) with my love, [bixgirl1](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bixgirl1), and because [capitu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/capitu) leaves me the most inspiring prompts that get my muse going I'm going to have to post this one as a WIP that will be added to....at some point. This will have at least one more chapter added to it, but I can't promise when so...reader beware. As it stands, it definitely can be read as a stand alone fic.

Draco growled and threw his broomstick on the ground. He couldn’t believe it happened _again_. He was a brilliant Seeker—why could he never manage to catch the Snitch before Potter? They’d been neck and neck, as usual, but Potter was just a little quicker, just a little better.

“Whoa, Malfoy, it was just a friendly game. It wasn’t even official, since we can’t play for our house teams anymore. Don’t take it so hard,” Potter said when he landed next to him, still holding the golden ball in his hand.

The delicate wings were furling around Potter’s fingers like they were caressing them with adoration, like it had returned to an old lover. Draco’s lip curled in disgust. He sneered at Potter and spun away from him, stomping towards the locker room.

“Bollocks, Potter. Every game is a chance to prove yourself the better player,” Draco spat over his shoulder. “Something I’m sure you’ve always taken advantage of. You’ve never played a _friendly game_ in your life, I’d bet.”

“Jesus, Malfoy,” Potter said, sounding exasperated. He jogged to catch up to Draco as he strode away from the pitch.

Draco slammed the door to the locker room open when he reached it, relishing the way it clattered against the tiled wall. In the late summer heat, it always felt sweltering in there. The atmosphere charms always went wonky and made everything smell faintly of moldy shin guards. Leather was definitely not meant to smell that way.

Potter followed in after him, making Draco pull up short. “This is the _Slytherin_ locker room, you blind tosser.”

“Calm down,” Potter said, holding up his palms. “It’s a closer walk to yours than to mine. Can’t I just shower here? I’m supposed to meet up with Luna and Neville for lunch, so I figured I would use yours so I could meet them in time.”

“Shower in—are you off your bloody Hippogriff? _No_ , go shower in your own team locker room!” Draco panicked at the thought of Potter in the same room as him— _naked and wet_ —and nearly spiraled into madness.

“Relax, for Merlin’s sake. You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before, you shirty prat. Look, I’ll use the one on the end, and you can use the one all the way down the row. Sound fair?” Potter asked, already pulling off his kit.

Draco didn’t squeak at that. Nope. Not at all.

He clutched his robes tighter around himself, just for something to hold onto, and skirted the wall of lockers to avoid crossing paths with Potter, who was still stripping. He was down to just his tight Quidditch trousers now. Merlin, they looked like they were painted onto his meaty thighs. Draco’s mouth flooded with saliva at the sight of him—sweaty and shirtless, a dark dusting of chest hair curling across his pecs and leading in a trail down to the button on his trousers—and, _Salazar’s frilly knickers_ , Draco could vividly picture where that trail led.

He caught himself staring and whirled around, coughing weakly to clear his throat. He could hear Potter shucking his shin guards and toeing off his boots. _Fuck_ , he thought, _not good, not good, need to get in the shower before he sees that I’m hard_. Draco was on the verge of a monumental panic. Potter couldn’t know. He could never find out how he felt. It was one thing to be on vaguely…civil terms with him, but it was another matter completely to be pining after him when he was never going to go for Draco. Not after what they’d both been through. Not after _everything_.

He knew what he wanted could never happen. It would only exist in his imagination when he was curled up in bed at night, his bed hangings firmly spelled shut and silenced so that no one could hear him crying out Potter’s name as he spilled over his hand.

Merlin’s saggy balls, he was a fucking mess. Well, like that was even news.

Draco snorted to himself as he edged his way along the wall to the shower furthest from the one Potter was going to use. He could silently admit to himself how excited he was at the prospect of being naked in the same room as Potter, with Potter only being a row of shower stalls away from him. It was a scenario right out of his favourite rotation of wank fantasies. Too bad this one wouldn’t go like _those_ always went. This shower wouldn’t end with Potter fucking him against the wall, or vice versa—he wasn’t picky. But no matter, because this was just going to be a shower between lads who occasionally play Seeker’s games while they work putting their destroyed school back together again.

Potter coughed, catching his attention. Draco froze, afraid to turn around, because surely Potter must be nude by now. His breathing sped up at the thought, his mind racing with vivid ideas of what Potter must look like without a stitch on. He’d put on so much muscle working on the castle over the summer, filling out with broad shoulders and strong biceps. He wasn’t bulky, still a perfectly lithe Seeker’s build, but he no longer looked like the half-starved young boy he was just four months ago.

“You must be narked off if you won’t even answer me. It was just a _game_ Malfoy, we play them all the time. Merlin, if it’ll make you happy, I’ll throw the next one and let you win. Alright?” Potter was so fucking earnest and bloody _noble_. Draco hated him.

No he didn’t.

God, he was such a mess.

“I didn’t hear you,” Draco said acidly. He slowly began to remove his robes at the edge of his shower stall, taking care to meticulously fold them, even though the House Elves would launder them as soon as he put them back in his dormitory.

“I asked if you wanted to join us for lunch. Luna and Neville and me,” Potter said.

Draco was silent as he unlaced his boots. Finally, he answered, “No, thank you.”

“Alright, suit yourself. I just figured you’d rather not be on your own again for lunch,” Potter said easily, like he invited him for lunch every day, like they were _mates_. “It’s not like you haven’t been around them before. You work together with Luna all the time, and you’ve helped Nev restore the Potion’s ingredients stock for Pomfrey.”

“I said no, Potter,” Draco said wearily. He didn’t want to be around Potter’s friends.

Being around Lovegood was hard enough, she was always twittering on about something or other—how to find someone to talk to about everything, for the most part. She was bloody exhausting. He liked when they fed the Thestrals, though. They didn’t seem to judge him like other volunteers did.

It wasn’t even like he was sentenced to help; he just decided it was what he needed to do after the Wizengamot cleared his name. With Potter’s helpful testimony, of course. Bloody Pensieves. As if Draco wanted his failures to be on record at the Ministry for everyone to see.

Draco sighed and turned on the shower. He could hear Potter’s running, too. The tiled room was beginning to fill with steam.

Draco stepped in after casting a furtive glance around to make sure Potter wasn’t looking at him naked and let the warm water cascade over him, washing away the grime from the day and the sweat from flying. He hummed under his breath and let the water push his hair into his face when he tipped his head down.

After a moment Draco blinked the water droplets from his eyes and pushed his hair back, tilting his head to listen.

Potter was fucking singing in the shower.

His heart lurched and he had to put a hand against the wall to steady himself. He was a damn goner. He put his other hand over his heart, like he was a bloody maiden from one of Pansy’s harlequin novels feeling faint.

Draco grumbled under his breath and turned his face back into the spray to tune Potter out.

He could barely resist ignoring his erection any longer, letting his long fingers skate over his wet skin and through the damp patch of curls surrounding it before he gripped it loosely.

He could be quiet. He would get away with this.

*******

When Harry rinsed the last of the shampoo and soap suds from his body he turned off the shower and stepped out, shaking his head like a dog to throw off the water droplets clinging to his hair. He hesitated when he could still hear Malfoy’s shower going.

Part of him was desperate to go peek, but he knew that wouldn’t be right. Malfoy probably took his wand into the shower and would hex him for it.

“I’m off then, Malfoy. See you later,” he called over the rush of water.

He paused and waited for an answer, frowning when he didn’t get one. He didn’t want to leave Malfoy alone in the showers, though, so he inched closer to his shower. He wrapped a towel around himself, using a second one to scrub at his hair. He was sure it would be standing on end no matter what when he was done with it.

Harry froze when he was close enough to hear the rhythmic sound of skin on skin, squelching and smacking under the sound of the water. _Oh_.

He bit his lip, flushing hot in a way that had nothing to do with coming out of the shower. Malfoy was wanking! A rush of excitement ran through Harry at the thought of him touching himself while Harry was none the wiser taking a shower down the row of stalls from him. His prick twitched under his towel.

Maybe Malfoy had a bit of Gryffindor in him after all, Harry mused.

He desperately wanted to peek, to see what Malfoy would look like tugging on his cock, his skin rosy pink from the heat of the shower and arousal. Harry bit down hard on his tongue to contain the sound that threatened to fight its way out of his throat at the thought. His cock was swelling quickly under his towel, tenting it obscenely. Harry put a palm over himself in an effort to try to hide it, and it made him want to snort because he was being ridiculous.

Malfoy made a sound then, barely loud enough to be heard over the rush of the shower, but Harry caught it. He swayed closer, pressing his back flat against the partition separating them, his ears listening carefully for any sound Malfoy made.

“Potter,” Malfoy muttered.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He thought that Malfoy knew he was there. He couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not. But a moment later, Malfoy said something else that made his heart beat wildly, made all of his blood rush south to his cock.

“Like that, Potter, yes,” Malfoy moaned faintly. “Please. Please touch me.”

 _Oh my god_ , Harry thought as arousal crashed through him. Malfoy wasn’t just wanking in the shower. He was wanking while he _thought about Harry_. He choked back a groan of his own and pressed the heel of his palm harder against his prick.

Harry could hear the sound of Malfoy’s hand speeding up and he held his breath. How close was Malfoy? Was Harry going to get to hear him come?

 _Oh fuck_ , he thought, _he’s going to fucking kill me if he catches me listening_.

Harry’s mind whirled with thoughts. He wished he had his Invisibility Cloak there with him so he could hide. He chewed on his lip and decided to risk a wandless _Accio_ to Summon his wand. It zipped to his hand, the wood smacking mutedly against his palm. Harry hastily cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and held his breath as he listened to Malfoy wank.

He was talking again, and getting louder—perhaps because he thought Harry really had left when he said he would. Harry closed his eyes and loosened his towel so he could palm his dick, hissing through his teeth quietly as he played with his sensitive foreskin.

“Oh, fuck, Potter. Need you. Want to fuck you,” Malfoy begged.

Harry’s breath left him in a rush before he remembered that he was supposed to be quiet. He covered his mouth with his free hand, wand and all. He tried to keep his breathing even

“Want you so much,” Malfoy whined. “So close.”

Harry needed to see him. He would surely die if he couldn’t see what Malfoy looked like at that exact moment. He gathered all the courage he could muster and peeked around the corner of the shower stall.

Christ, Malfoy was a beautiful sight. The water was streaming over him, running down his body in rivulets and leaving drops of water dotting his body. His chest and face were just as flushed as Harry pictured he would be, all pink and warm—he had to grip the base of his cock to keep from coming at that alone. His eyes drifted lower and watched in aroused awe as he saw Malfoy’s hand flying over his cock. The tip was swollen and ruddy, glistening with water and pre-come. Malfoy’s face— _God_ , his face. He looked amazing, his expression scrunched up in ecstasy as he touched himself with Harry’s name on his lips, begging the imaginary him to touch him.

Harry wanted him more than he had wanted anything in his life in that moment. He very nearly reached out to touch him, too wrapped up in watching.

He blinked, startled, when Malfoy cried out sharply, his whole body arching as he rocked up on his toes. With one final stroke he came, murmuring Harry's name and painting the tiles with ropes of come that streaked down the wall in sticky globs until it mingled in the swirl of water and suds on the floor. Malfoy keened as he worked his hand slowly over his spent cock, milking all of his spunk out until he slumped and staggered, catching himself on the wall. He was panting, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. Harry was either going to die or blow his load right there and give himself away.

It took every bit of his willpower, but he dragged himself away from the perfect picture Malfoy made while he was still distracted and hazy from his orgasm. He waited, hiding in the stall next to Malfoy’s, until he was dressed and gone, touching his dick with the lightest of strokes to keep himself on the edge.

When Malfoy left, Harry wasted no time fucking his fist with little finesse, focused on coming with the memory of Malfoy fresh in his mind. He let his wand clatter to the ground. Harry whined as he fucked his fist dry, the friction almost too rough for him, but he didn’t care—all he could think of was the things Malfoy had uttered that he wasn’t supposed to hear. The secrets he was unknowingly confessing to Harry. His toes curled as he tipped over the edge, his cock throbbing as he shot his come against the opposite wall, just on the other side of where Malfoy had spilled his. Harry groaned under his breath and rocked his hips, pushing his cock into his hand as his own release stuck to his fingers and coated his pulsing dick.

When he was spent he sagged back against the wall, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Now that he knew, he’d never look at Malfoy the same. Anytime they played a Seeker's game, or worked together restoring a classroom—Harry was only going to be able to think of this.

He licked his lips and cast a hasty Cleaning Charm, not bothering with another shower. He was going to be late to meet Luna and Neville for lunch.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments + Kudos are ♥ | Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://carpemermaidtales.tumblr.com)!


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